


Just Got Word

by politics_and_prose



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politics_and_prose/pseuds/politics_and_prose
Summary: In the aftermath of the attack by Weasel and the bulls, Race takes it upon himself to make sure they get the backup they need for Davey's rally.





	Just Got Word

**Author's Note:**

> For whatever reason, this idea struck me on my commute to work this morning and I knew I wouldn't stop thinking about it until I wrote it. So I wrote it.

When the dust settled, Race didn’t know if he was more angry or afraid. There had to be a word for the combination of the two but he had no idea what it was.

He winced when he brought his hand to his eye, knowing it was probably either purple on well on its way. His head hurt but he was in charge with Jack missing, so he had no time to worry about himself. His boys were hurting and it was his job to take care of them.

Wrapping, ice and bandages were limited but he and Finch did what they could to patch up the boys. His eyes wandered over to the spot Crutchie usually occupied and he thought he might throw up. Guilt ripped through him as he relived running as fast as he could, Elmer’s vest gripped in one hand as they never stopped or looked back to make sure everyone got out okay.

“Race?”

He looked up to see Albert standing there, hands in his pockets. “Ain’t nobody seen Jack.”

Nodding, Race turned to the group. Everyone was accounted for except for Crutchie, who was probably stuffed into an overcrowded room at the Refuge, and Jack. “Yeah. I ain’t seen em’ neither. Let’s just … let’s get the kids comfortable. Everybody needs ta’ sleep off the …” He couldn’t finish his thought, not even inside his own head.

“Yeah. I’ll …” Albert turned and started corralling the kids up towards the bunk rooms.

Race watched for a minute before heading outside and sitting on the steps. He ached for a light to smoke his cigar but he didn’t have one and he couldn’t bring himself to go inside to get one. Instead, he stood and started slowly wandering back to The World.

The scene was carnage. The ground was covered in papers, both whole and ripped. Shuffling further inside, he could see red spots on some of the paper. Blood, he realized with a start. That was the blood of his brothers.

Involuntarily, his fists clenched. Weasel and the bulls did this. They beat a bunch of kids bloody and were probably home in bed, no problem sleeping at all. Sure, he and the other newsies weren’t innocent but they hadn’t deserved what they got.

_“The cops ain’t gonna care about a buncha kids”_ Jack had said.

Jack.

“Coward,” he shouted, no one around to hear him. “You’re a goddamn coward, Kelly!”

Seething, he paced through the wreckage, kicking the papers around and muttering to himself, trying to figure out what to do, both with the kids who were recovering back at the lodge and with Jack if he ever showed his face again.

Honestly, Race had no idea if he wanted the guy to come back or not.

While in the courtyard, Race found a couple of hats and a vest, so he scooped them up to bring back to the lodge with him. The kids didn’t have much in the way of possessions, some of them literally only having the clothes on their backs. Those kids lost their pride and some blood today, but Race would be damned if he was gonna let them lose their clothes.

It could have been ten minutes or two hours, but Race eventually made his way back to the lodge. Albert, Elmer and JoJo were all sitting downstairs, eyes closed but not asleep. “You fellas okay?”

“Just waitin’ for you,” JoJo said as he pushed himself out of his chair. “Y’okay?”

“How’s ya’ neck? I seen that fella chokin’ ya’.”

“M’fine,” JoJo said with a yawn. “Davey dropped by. Said he’d be back in th’ mornin’ with Les.”

“Go get some rest. We’ll talk about it in the mornin’,” Race replied, sliding into the seat JoJo vacated. The other boy nodded and headed upstairs. Race watched him go before turning to the others. “Youse two okay?”

“Yeah,” Elmer answered for them. “Sore but alive and not …”

“Not in the Refuge,” Albert finished. “You think we should go bust Crutchie out?”

“Not tonight,” Race said softly. “They’s gonna be watchin’ em’ too close.”

They were all quiet for a few minutes before Albert pushed himself up. “We ain’t gettin’ anything done sittin’ up and fallin’ asleep. We can figure things out in the mornin’, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Race answered as he and Elmer got up as well. “We’ll work it out wi’ Davey in the mornin’.”

\--

The next morning at Jacobi’s was a mix of excitement and nerves. Sure, Katherine had got them in the paper but Albert had heard that Jack had taken off and Les had messed up his arm pretty bad; bad enough to need a sling.

Once the shine wore off, Davey called a meeting and suggested they try to get the newsies from all over New York to come to a rally. He was so sure that Pulitzer couldn’t ignore them all. Race, however, wasn’t so sure.

But there _was_ one thing he was sure of.

“I got Brooklyn,” he said strongly. Davey looked at him in confusion. “Me and Elmer and Albert’ll go. You worry about findin’ Jack and getting’ the other newsies.”

“We should sell first,” Finch said softly. “I … I ain’t got no more money ‘cept for papes. We needa sell sos we can stay in the lodge tonight.”

Davey agreed even though he seemed reluctant to do so. “Let’s go,” he agreed. “Get out on the streets before they run out of the morning edition.”

“You wanna _sell_?” Race asked in shock.   “I thought we was on strike.”

“Can you make boarding without it?” Mush asked. “I don’t like it either but Davey and Finch is right. We needa sell.”

As much as he hated it, they’d all been beat near death for this strike, he knew they were right. He couldn’t _admit_ that though, so he just shoved his cigar in his mouth and walked out.

It felt wrong, selling when Crutchie was in jail and Jack was missing, so he only sold what he needed to have a place to stay that night and get across the bridge in the morning. Nothing else really mattered.

\--

With Davey off looking for Jack – a lost cause, he thought – he grabbed Albert and Elmer and headed for the Brooklyn Bridge. They other two kept slowing down the closer they got and Race wanted to roll his eyes but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been face to face with Spot Conlon since he took over the Brooklyn newsies. Rumor had it he looked more like a dock worker than a paper seller these days and Race really didn’t need another black eye for showing up on his turf uninvited.

When they got across the bridge, Race stopped and looked left and right for a minute. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to Brooklyn or where Spot usually hung out.

“We lost?” Elmer asked, looked around. “Cuz we can just go back.”

“We ain’t goin’ back wi’out Spot Conlon’s word he’s comin’ ta’ back us up,” he snapped back. “Le’s head ta’ the pier. Warm enough that Spot might be lettin’ his boys swim.”

Reluctantly, the other two followed him as he headed south. Race was determined to get to Spot and get his word for backup.

When they got there, he could see a short guy with big muscles sitting up towards the base of the dock and he knew it had to be Spot. Setting his shoulders, he marched toward the boy.

And ran right into the chest of someone else. “The hell?”

“Where ya’ goin’, Curly?”

Race rolled his eyes. “I sees you landed in Brooklyn, Willie. Nice’a Spot ta' take pity on ya’.”

“Racer?” the kid laughed. “Well damn. Didn’t know it was you.” He looked past him. “Where’s Jack and Mouth?”

Race gave him a look, then grinned. He was definitely going to be calling Davey Mouth from then on. “Donno. I needa see Spot.”

“Who gave youse guys them shiners?”

“What are ya’, a bull? Ya’ gonna lemme see’em or not?” Race bit out, quickly losing his patience with the nosey kid. Sure, Willie was a lot bigger than him and could probably pound him into the ground at this point but Race didn’t care. He was there for Spot.

“Racetrack?”

Race looked around Willie to see Spot walking towards them. His arms were bigger, held a little away from his body on account of how strong he’d gotten. For the first time, Race got nervous. Spot could definitely soak him, probably one handed, if he wanted to.

Shit.

“Yeah,” he answered, taking a step back when Spot got real close. “Long time.”

Spot didn’t say anything, just reached out and grabbed Race by the shirt, pulling him close. Race panicked for a second, flailing a bit to try to catch himself from falling. His eyes roamed over Race’s face, then pushed him up and moved past him to look closely at Albert and Elmer. “What happened ta’ youse guys?”

“Pulitzer got Weasel and the bulls ta’ attack us,” Race answered.

“Nobody but lower Manhattan showed up,” Albert added. “No Brooklyn, no Queens, no Bronx. We was outnumbered an’ we got busted up real bad. Crutchie got caught, Jack took off but Davey’s lookin’ fer’ em’. Davey wants ta’ hold a rally for all the newsies. Show Pulitzer we ain’t givin’ up.”

“Ya’ should just give up,” Spot said with a shrug. “Ya’s outnumbered.”

“Not if youse guys join up,” Race said, stepping closer to Spot. “If you come ta’ the rally Davey’s plannin’, the other fellas will too, an’ then we got a real chance.” He took a deep breath and took another step closer. “We need Brooklyn.” He licked his lips. “We need you.”

Spot was silent for a long minute, obviously considering Race’s (embarrassingly) desperate plea. He had no idea what the Brooklyn newsie was thinking but it was making him uncomfortable. He couldn’t show it though; there wasn’t any time for him to show weakness. If Spot wanted proof they weren’t giving up, he was going to give it to him by not giving an inch now.

It seemed like Spot was silent for a long time, an hour or more, but Race knew it just seemed that way because he was nervous and anxious. He felt Albert and Elmer shifting behind him and wondered if it was because they were uncomfortable or if they were still hurting from the beating they took.

He watched Spot look past him to the others and then back to him. Their eyes met and Race squared his jaw, silently urging Spot to agree.

Time dragged on, the air thick with tension and uncertainly, until finally:

“So when’s this rally?”


End file.
